


moving in slow motion

by simplerushes



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Break Up, Getting Back Together, M/M, they're fine they'll always be fine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:27:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25688809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simplerushes/pseuds/simplerushes
Summary: “First, you’re about to pick your ex-boyfriend up at the airport,” Osamu starts, eyeing him wearily. “Second, what the fuck is wrong with you?”(or: one year after their breakup, shouyou calls atsumu at one in the morning and asks if he'd pick him up at the airport. atsumu says yes, because of course he does.)
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Miya Atsumu
Comments: 86
Kudos: 905





	moving in slow motion

**Author's Note:**

> title: moving in slow motion - the sweet remains
> 
> \--
> 
> songs:
> 
> ran away - hollow coves  
> sounds like help - austin basham  
> feeling you - harrison storm  
> i followed a bird - freya ward  
> hope - old sea brigade  
> arms - the paper kites  
> keep it down - katie ruvane, jordan hamilton  
> people change - mipso

_ “I am young, and, at last, life is not so dark and so painful.  _

_ The sun shines, and the moon is calm.” _

_ Takuboku Ishikawa, from “Romaji Diary & Sad Toys,” _

△

The phone ringing at three in the morning is enough for Atsumu to want to throw it across the room, only hesitating when he sees the familiar face flashing on the screen. He picks it up, bringing the phone up to his ear to grumble out what he hopes is a good enough greeting. 

“Hey, I know it’s late,” Shouyou’s voice comes from the other end of the call. It’s a bit crowded where he’s at, Atsumu can tell. Loud with the bustling of so many people. Who knows where he is or where he’s been? The answer is somewhere between  _ anywhere  _ and  _ everywhere _ . Shouyou has just been so, so far away these past few months. “But I’m actually on my way back home,” 

That’s enough to wake Atsumu up. His eyes blink open, hand tightening around the phone.

“Now that I’m thinking about it, I should’ve called Kenma, maybe,” Shouyou’s voice sounds nervous, a shake in his words that Atusmu doesn’t like to hear. 

“No, it’s okay,” Atsumu says, a smile playing at the edges of his lips. It’s three in the morning and he’s far too sleepy to actually process this in its entirety but for now, he allows himself this. A smile and a conversation with a friend. “Send me your flight details. I’ll be there,” 

A sigh of relief from Shouyou, like he’d been half afraid Atsumu would have turned him down. And that’s ridiculous, isn’t it? Because they’ve been friends for years and Atsumu’s never once denied Shouyu of anything. At least, not anything that counts, anyway. 

They spend a few more minutes catching up, idle chatter that they pass between each other until Shouyou tells him that he’s ready to board. 

Atsumu smiles into the call, hoping it’s good enough for Shouyou to pick up on. “Have a safe flight, Shouyou,” 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” says Shouyou, and with the lights off and the bright lights of Tokyo dancing outside his window, Atsumu can almost,  _ almost _ see Shouyou smiling. 

It is a good enough reason to go back to sleep. 

△

Osamu always has perfect timing and by perfect timing, Atsumu means it’s absolute trash. For some reason or another, he’d managed to break into Atsumu’s apartment (quite alarming for something so expensive but then again, this is Osamu. Atsumu thinks his brother will have no problem breaking out of a maximum security prison, which is. Well. A bit much but it serves its point).

“Hey, ‘Tsumu?” Osamu asks, leaning across the table to swipe at the strawberries on Atsumu’s plate. 

“If you’re not gonna tell me how you pulled off your most recent B&E stunt then I don’t want to hear it,” Atsumu swipes the strawberries back and instantly shoves them in his mouth. He almost chokes on it.

“Oh, that was easy. Security here sucks. Anyway, I just wanted to ask if you hated yourself the normal amount or if I should start to get worried,” it’s all so casual, as if Osamu was just talking about the recent drama he’d watched the other night. As if he was pointing out how Atsumu’s shirt was inside out. 

Atsumu kind of hates his brother, he really does.

But he bites, anyway, because there’s a thrumming in his veins that tells him he’s all kinds of nervous and excited. Two parts, always. 

“Just the normal amount, why’s that?” Atsumu watches his brother from across the table, sees the way Osamu hesitates for the briefest of seconds before he asks a question that Atsumu should have seen coming a mile away.

“First, you’re about to pick your ex-boyfriend up at the airport,” Osamu starts, eyeing him wearily. “Second, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

Osamu looks around Atsumu’s apartment, eyes falling to a corner of the room with boxes Atsumu had shoved behind some house plants, as if it would help hide them. As if keeping things that Shouyou had once owned in these moving out boxes is enough for Atsumu to finally come to terms with what’s happened. “Shouyou’s got tons of friends,”

And it’s not like Atsumu is stupid, he’d thought about that because it doesn’t even feel right for Shouyou to make him his first choice, not when he has an array of close friends awaiting his homecoming. Not after everything.

But Atsumu doesn’t say that, instead he just shakes his head and says, “I mean, we’re still friends. There’s nothing wrong with that,” 

“Yeah, well, don’t say I didn’t tell you so,” Osamu yawns, stretching out on the couch now. “Do you mind if I spend the day here?”

“Yes. Get out,” it’s a lost cause if he’s ever seen one. Osamu just turns over to his side, flips his middle finger at Atsumu, and then goes back to sleep. 

Atsumu probably needs to move to a different apartment and give everyone but his twin brother the address but for now he just throws a pillow over Osamu’s face and heads back to his room. He’s got an ex-boyfriend to pick up at the airport.

△

Yeah. That’s kind of the thing between Atsumu and Shouyou, but does it really matter? Like,  _ seriously _ , does it? So they dated for a few months, so what? They were roommates before that, and even before they’d shared the same apartment they were friends. For as long as Atsumu can look back on his life, he sees Shouyou. Orange hair, bright eyes, and a smile that always puts the sun to shame. Hinata Shouyou has always been a constant. 

Atsumu has always had Shouyou by his side and a breakup that wasn’t even really that bad will never change that. Easier said than done, really, because his hands are cold just from the thought of seeing Shouyou again.

And it’s not like they didn’t talk after the break up. They’ve always been friends. Couldn’t tear themselves away from each other if they tried. But it’s not--it’s not the same now that Atsumu’s gotten to touch Shouyou in ways that he could only dream of back then, all those years ago. It’s not the same. 

But that really shouldn’t matter. Doesn’t matter because it’s been a full year since they’d broken up and they’ve remained friends, they’re  _ friends _ , they’ll always be friends. It’s not like Atsumu’s still in love with his ex-boyfriend or anything. 

Definitely not. 

△

“What, so you’re just on the way to the airport now?” Bokuto’s voice is too loud in Atsumu’s small car. He shouldn’t have called him while driving. Just hearing Bokuto’s little humming noise makes Atsumu want to swerve right into oncoming traffic. “Is this some grand reunion I wasn’t invited to?” 

From the background, Atsumu thinks he can hear a shuffling of papers, the sound of pen tapping lightly on the table. 

“Hinata didn’t call you so you’re not invited,” Akaashi’s voice comes from the other end of the line, a little bit exasperated but Atsumu can hear the fond, still. It’s sickening. Atsumu hates the both of them so much. 

“Why not?” Bokuto almost yells and Atsumu winces. “Hey, do you want me to come pick him up, too?”

Atsumu and Akaashi both yell  _ no _ at the same time and that’s that for the phone call. 

How he even thought calling Bokuto on the drive to the airport was a good idea is beyond him. Perhaps he should have called Sakusa instead, or--or perhaps it had been a good thing he hadn’t because he’s pretty sure Sakusa would have just dropped the call the moment Atsumu said,  _ So I’m picking Shouyou up from the airport _ . 

Looking back on all the conversations he’s had today, Atsumu is quite alarmed at the state of his own support system. His brother is absolutely useless and Bokuto is always on a different wavelength, running so far ahead Atsumu can’t even begin to dream of catching up. 

God, Atsumu’s life is depressing and all his friends want to see him burn. That’s great. Awesome, really. 

But at least,  _ at least _ he’s over Shouyou. 

When he texts Sakusa this very thought at the next stop light, all he gets after five minutes is a very blunt:  _ Whatever you say.  _

Yeah, Atsumu needs more friends.

△

It’s been two years since Shouyou has last been home. A year since they’d broken up and a day since they’d last spoken. It all feels surreal and like he’s floating in a dream, how their regular video calls of Shouyou telling him about all the cool things he’d seen that day, all the new food he’d managed to try had turned into Shouyou smiling sadly at him from the opposite side of the world, his soft round features blurred through the screen. 

_ I don’t think you’re happy anymore _ , is all Shouyou had told him a year ago and Atsumu had insisted, he really did, but Shouyou knows him. Shouyou believes in him. Shouyou picked up on the lie before Atsumu had even realized it.  _ You can tell me the truth _ . 

So there you have it. Definitely not a bad breakup, just a conversation that ended with the truth: 

_ I miss you everyday and it sucks, _ followed more quietly by,  _ This isn’t making me happy anymore _ . 

They say distance makes the heart grow fonder but Shouyou was ten thousand miles and several oceans away and selfishly enough, all Atsumu needed for him to be was  _ here _ . At home and next to him. 

Perhaps if there’s one thing that will haunt Atsumu’s dreams then it is this--

The look on Shouyou’s face when he asked Atsumu if he wanted him to come home and Atsumu had told him in very simple terms that  _ no _ ,  _ I don’t want that _ , because Atsumu might miss him so much it hurt like a phantom limb but he isn’t--he isn’t going to hold him back. 

The call ended with a very quiet  _ thank you _ and a murmured  _ goodbye _ . 

Their relationship ended quietly, unexpectedly. Like how a fire that once burned so hot, so bright eventually just kind of fizzled out. 

Atsumu is over it. 

△

Seeing Shouyou for the first time in two years makes Atsumu realize a few things that he should have probably realized  _ before _ he’d arrived at the airport:

First, Shouyou is tanner, hair a little bit longer and his smile sleepy as he wades through the crowd, dragging a carrier that looks too large for one person behind him. 

Second, Shouyou looks really, really good. Like, Atsumu wants to run up to him and grab his face, ask him who allowed you to be this gorgeous, that kind of good. That kind of beautiful. 

Third, Shouyou. Shouyou himself. Atsumu had known, had prepared himself, but the full force of Shouyou’s presence in the flesh after so long is enough to knock him off his feet.

And he does stagger a bit when Shouyou runs into him, arms coming around in a tight hug, and his sleepy little sunset smile growing wider, brighter. Trust Hinata Shouyou to spend sixteen hours on a plane and still end up with two full energy tanks. 

“Hey, hey,” Atsumu says, arms winding around Shouyou in a hug. He squeezes. They’re so close, Atsumu can smell the citrus in Shouyou’s hair. “What, did you miss me that much?”

Shouyou pulls apart from him and tilts his head up, grin wide, “Yeah, a whole lot. Do we have a problem with that?”

Not for the first time, Atsumu just wants to grab Shouyou’s face and hold it in his hands. Wants to look into his eyes and trace his fingers over all the curves and planes of his face, everything that’s changed in the years that he’d been gone. Atsumu wants to explore unmapped areas that have surfaced over the years, over their separation. 

But he doesn’t do anything like that, he can’t, not anymore, at least, and instead just ruffles Shouyou’s hair. 

“Only a little,” he laughs at the grimace on Shouyou’s face. “Nah, listen. I missed you, too,”

Shouyou’s answering smile is immaculate and Atsumu realizes a fourth thing he had overlooked. 

It is this: 

Maybe, just maybe, his heart still squeezes at the sight of Shouyou, fingers twitching in his sides because they want to reach out and hold him, and maybe, just maybe, that means a little bit like Atsumu isn’t quite over him. Just  _ maybe _ , anyway. 

Later, when they’re sat in the car and Shouyou’s messing with the radio, Atsumu looks at him, doesn’t say anything for a few short moments because he’s afraid he’ll start to  _ beg _ for him back, and god, calm the fuck down, the man hasn’t even been back an hour yet and Atsumu’s resolve has already started shaking (see also: it’s crumbled. There is nothing left but the dust on the floor). 

“Hi,” Shouyou catches him off guard. He smiles a muted smile at Atsumu. 

“Hey,” Atsumu smiles back and it doesn’t hurt, not really. “I’m really happy you’re back, Shouyou,”

“Do you mean that?” is all Shouyou asks him, eyes not meeting Atsumu’s gaze because the last time they’d talked about  _ happy _ was moments before they broke up. 

But Atsumu couldn’t lie then and he can’t lie now. A stupid boy with a rainforest heart. 

“I really do,” The quiet that settles between them as Atsumu drives out of the airport and into the afternoon traffic is familiar. It is comforting. 

△

This isn’t the same apartment he’d shared with Shouyou. Atsumu had moved for reasons completely unrelated to the breakup and somehow none of his friends buy that, but to hell with them. It’s already an established fact that Atsumu needs better friends. Kinder friends. And a totally new brother who won’t torment him every waking day of his life. 

A twin brother who doesn’t spend his days in Atsumu’s house, raiding his fridge and making a complete mess of his entire apartment, like. Is that too much to ask for, really?

“Oh, look who it is,” Osamu says, closing the fridge in a way that’s far too dramatic for even the likes of him. “You look great,” 

Shouyou smiles at him, already kicking off his shoes. 

“What brings you here?” Osamu asks, helping Shouyou out with his bag like this is his house and he’s the one welcoming guests. 

“Just staying for the night,” Shouyou says, already taking the large living room in. It’s--it’s much bigger than the one they shared. At a completely different part of town. Atsumu thinks it’s too much most days. “Huh, look at you, fancy high rise apartment and all,”

Atsumu feels his cheeks reddening, the tips of his ears suddenly hot. 

“No, it’s really not much,” but Shouyou just hums, walking around the living room to inspect the lack of decoration Atsumu had decided to put up. He doesn’t have much in this new apartment, just a few photos of his mom on the fridge and Osamu’s face hidden behind a magnet. 

There are some postcards from Bokuto and Akaashi’s recent summer getaway tacked on the fridge and a Christmas photo of Atsumu and Shouyou that last winter they spent together. A polaroid photo Atsumu had framed and propped right in the middle of the living room. 

There’s a--there’s a framed polaroid of Atsumu and Shouyou at Christmas. Atsumu had forgotten to take it down. 

He moves to swipe it away before Shouyou notices but it’s too late, Shouyou’s already reaching out for it, a look on his face that Atsumu can’t quite read. 

Shouyou turns to look at him, a funny smile on his face. “You kept this?”

And although Atsumu has moved into a totally new apartment, there are still several traces of Shouyou everywhere, even before Shouyou had stepped a foot through the door.

“Yeah,” Atsumu admits, because there’s no use denying that. He’s kept that photo and then a few more, stashed in a drawer in his bedroom. “Do you want it back?”

Shouyou sets the photo down, still with that same odd smile on his face that Atsumu doesn’t have a name for, and that’s--

That’s almost wrong. It feels wrong. Because Atsumu has known Shouyou for half of his life already and he should know Shouyou’s smile. He should. But it’s been two years since Shouyou’s left and he isn’t exactly the same anymore.

Perhaps Atsumu is the same.

They’re both changed. 

Atsumu just isn’t sure if he’s the good kind of different or the kind that shouldn’t have changed at all. 

“No, of course not,” Shouyou runs his thumb over the wooden frame, shabby compared to everything else in Atsumu’s apartment. “I still have our photos.” 

Shouyou touches a finger to the chain around his neck and it’s only now that Atsumu realizes that it’s the same necklace Atsumu had given him that very same Christmas they’d taken the polaroid photo. 

Atsumu opens his mouth to say something,  _ what  _ he doesn’t know. Point out the necklace? Ask how long he’s worn it? Is that--is that even right, to ask Shouyou that when it’s not exactly  _ their _ necklace, just a pretty little piece of jewelry that Atsumu had given him for Christmas, two long winters ago. 

Behind them, leaning against the wall, looking completely unimpressed with what he’s seeing, Osamu clears his throat. 

“So, about dinner?” Osamu asks, bringing Atsumu right back to the present, the one where Shouyou’s just come back after so, so long. The one where they’re nothing more than friends. Just friends, now, and Atsumu’s spent a year struggling with that fact but he swallows it down now, and forces himself to look away from Shouyou. 

“Stop free loading,” Atsumu grits out instead, thankful for his brother’s distraction. “I’ll tell mom you’re nothing but trouble down here,”

Osamu runs to Shouyou’s side, hands on either side of his shoulders, using him as an actual human shield against Atsumu. 

“You can’t let us starve, ‘Tsumu,” Osamu says cheekily. 

“I can let  _ you _ starve. Shouyou can have whatever he wants,” and they work well like this, Atsumu and Osamu. 

Osamu knows when to stop pulling and when to start pushing. He knows exactly what Atsumu needs and it’s definitely not to spend the rest of the evening just staring helpless at his ex-boyfriend from across the room.

Shouyou looks oblivious enough because--because he’s moved on already, and that’s okay. That’s only to be expected. 

“I’ll have whatever Osamu is having,” Shouyou grins up at Atsumu just as cheekily and Atsumu wonders if Shouyou is aware that he’s got a smile that can blow the windows wide open the same way a storm can. 

△

Shouyou spends the night on the couch despite Atsumu’s insistence that he can take the bed. He even suggests booking a hotel room for him right now (Osamu is offended because Atsumu’s never booked a hotel room for him before, to which Atsumu just told him to fuck right off,  _ this isn’t about you. _ ) but Shouyou had just waved everything away and instead worked on getting himself comfortable on the couch. 

It’s so painful, Atsumu wants to laugh but he doesn’t. Instead, he spends the night staring at his ceiling and wondering if Shouyou is cold outside.

Halfway through the night he slips out of the room and creeps quietly into the living room. Definitely not weird to have his ex-boyfriend on the couch. Definitely not because before they dated they were friends. And even after they dated they’d remained friends--case in point. 

It’s not weird, it’s not complicated, it’s just how they function, the two of them. This is how they’ve always been.

But it still feels like Atsumu’s holding his breath and walking on glass. Careful, careful, so, so careful, afraid that if he says anything, if he even looks at Shouyou too long that he’ll know. That he’ll see and then it’ll be awkward because they’re broken up and just friends now. Atsumu isn’t--he isn’t supposed to have feelings anymore. He’s supposed to have moved on.

And he has. Or, at least. He thinks he has, anyway.

(Osamu says he’s going to be in denial about this forever and Sakusa doesn’t even bother to talk to him about it because he’s too goddamn stubborn. And they both might have a point but it’s not like Atsumu to concede,  _ so. _ )

Shouyou’s even breathing is the only sound Atsumu hears. He rounds the living room quietly enough, blanket bundled in his hands. Shouyou looks tired now that he’s asleep. Atsumu wants to run a thumb over his brows, wants to smooth it over if only to ease him back into sleep but he pulls his hand away from his face and instead just moves to cover him with the extra blanket. 

Atsumu smiles, if only to himself. A single smile in the middle of the dark. It’s almost poetic, like a single candle in the darkness, but this is Atsumu so it’s just--it’s just a little bit sad, really.

And he can’t help himself. He leans down, careful not to make a sound, and gently brushes his fingers over Shouyou’s forehead.

Shouyou just burrows deeper into his blankets, finally warm. 

△

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Osamu asks him a few days later. Shouyou’s long gone from their apartment but somehow Atsumu still can’t kick his twin brother out. 

Atsumu throws a banana peel at him. “Don’t start with me. We don’t talk,”

Which is a lie. All they ever do is talk. All they’ve done was talk to each other, about each other. They’ve talked so much Atsumu is surprised they’ve still got so many words left inside of them. 

Atsumu struggles to even find the right words to say to Shouyou, can’t text him a casual good morning without typing and deleting the text over and over again until it’s not morning anymore and all he’s left with is a dead phone. 

“I mean, if I could offer some brotherly advice,” Atsumu makes a face and Osamu’s lips quirk into a smirk. “If my observation counts for anything then I think you guys aren’t really, like, over  _ over _ ,”

When Atsumu doesn’t dignify that with a response, Osamu pushes on. “It’s not  _ the _ end, or whatever,”

Atsumu wants him to shut up right now because he can’t get his hopes up. Can’t let his brother goad him into this. 

“You just wanna ruin my life,” Atsumu finally sighs, giving up.

Osamu looks genuinely hurt by that but quickly schools his expression into a cock sure grin, looking like the kind of guy who’s never been wrong in his life (he has. He’s been wrong countless times and this is just going to end up on all the wrong things he’s done and said, Atsumu knows it will.). 

“No, listen. I was watching you two make eyes at each other all throughout dinner,” Osamu pretends to gag. “Disgusting, really. Pathetic. I hate you both,”

That one makes Atsumu smile, at least. 

“Nah, Shouyou’s fine,” Atsumu waves the thought away. It’s not possible. Shouyou had looked so happy when they’d met. No hesitation on his face at all. Shouyou had acted the same way he always did with Atsumu. 

Atsumu can’t quite decide if that hurts more than if Shouyou straight up just ignored him, moved on completely and cut him out of his life.

Okay, the second one. The second one definitely hurts more. 

“Can’t say the same for you, ‘Tsumu,” Osamu stretches lazily in his seat, hair a mess and looking far too sleepy for someone who’s supposedly slept for twelve hours every night the past four days. “But trust me on this. Brotherly intuition. Magic or whatever bullshit they call it on TV.”

Not brotherly intuition at all and definitely not magic because Osamu is wrong. 

Shouyou proves that when he calls Atsumu up one afternoon asking if he can drop by to pick up some of his things. 

Atsumu’s grip on the phone tightens, eyes drifting to the corner behind the house plants, cardboard boxes stacked up together. His throat constricts, chest suddenly heavy at the thought of not seeing Shouyou’s things there anymore. At the thought of Shouyou walking out the door one last time. 

But Atsumu doesn’t tell him that.

Instead, he fakes nonchalance and says, “Sure, drop by any time.”

Once again, Miya Osamu is wrong. It’s not like Atsumu had gotten his hopes up or anything. Not at all. 

△

It’s raining the day Shouyou comes to pick up his things. 

“You could’ve thrown them out,” Shouyou says, as if that was ever a choice. “Or you could’ve let me send in my sister to pick them up,” like that’s an even better option. 

“Could’ve, would’ve, should’ve,” Atsumu grumbles, helping Shouyou haul the heavier boxes. “I’m telling you, it’s fine. I had the extra space. And there’s no way I was going to throw your stuff away,” 

Shouyou looks up at him, nose wrinkling. 

Atsumu kind of wants to pinch it but he’s got his hands full so instead he just grimaces at him. 

“Don’t look at me like this is the first decent thing I’ve done as a person,” they slide back into old habits, if only somewhat. Atsumu trying to bicker with him and Shouyou laughing along but also throwing in a few jabs here and there. It’s good. Atsumu’s missed this. He’s missed them a whole lot more than he’d allowed himself to admit. 

“You’re right,” Shouyou says, rather thoughtfully. “This is the second decent thing you’ve done. The first was when you took in that stray cat before,” 

Atsumu opens his mouth to protest that but he clamps it shut because, yeah. Shouyou has a point. He kind of misses the cat too but she’s living her best life with his mother so it’s not all too bad. 

Perhaps Atsumu should start thinking about getting a pet. The apartment is too big without his annoying twin breaking and entering every couple of weeks. And it gets cold, too. Winter is almost over but not before it brings with it too much snow and one too many rainfalls. As if the freezing temperatures every goddamn day wasn’t enough. 

They finish up much quicker than Atsumu had expected and before he can even realize what’s happening, Shouyou’s already got his hands on the last box. A smaller one barely filled to the top with a few of his more personal belongings--pictures that Shouyou had stuffed in his old desk that he couldn’t bring with him on his travels. His family, his friends. Atsumu. 

Atsumu had debated keeping them for himself but it hadn’t felt right then and it doesn’t feel right to ask for them back. He’s got his own treasure trove of memories with Shouyou. He can hold those close instead of taking what’s rightfully Shouyou’s. 

“This was a good day,” Shouyou suddenly says, flipping through a small album. He stops at a page and flips it over to show Atsumu. A quiet day at the park, Atsumu falling asleep on the grass beside Shouyou. 

Atsumu smiles at the memory. “Yeah, it was,” and then, because he apparently wants to drive the final nail in the coffin, adds, “There were a lot of that,” 

Good days. Atsumu hasn’t had a good day in a long, long while. 

Shouyou briefly thumbs over the picture, eyes trained on Atsumu’s sleeping face. 

“Hm, I wonder about that,” Shouyou hums, closing the album with a gentle little thump. He drops it back in the box and starts for the door. “You know what they always say. We can always have better days,” 

Shouyou’s smile is bright, eyes twinkling. 

He’s right. Of course he’s right. But the problem is, Atsumu hadn’t just had his good days with Shouyou. He’d had his best and now he’s more afraid than he’ll ever let on that perhaps that had been it for him. 

It’s Atsumu’s turn to hum, following close behind Shouyou as they step into the elevator. “I wonder about that,”

“Only one way to find out, huh?” Shouyou’s laughter is refreshing, coloring Atsumu’s day orange and yellow, and beautiful. Atsumu wants to hold onto that laugh, tuck it into his pocket and keep it there for when he needs it. For all the eventual bad days. 

“What, you’re gonna bully me into having good days?” Atsumu laughs, too, and he feels lighter for it.

“Don’t be stupid, ‘Tsumu,” Shouyou slips the box carefully in the backseat of Atsumu’s car. “I have a pretty good feeling about those good days. Better days, actually,” 

Atsumu doesn’t know how he does it, how Shouyou can manage a full conversation with his ex-boyfriend about all the better days ahead of them without cracking once. Perhaps Shouyou is really better off without him. 

“We’ll see,” is all Atsumu tells him, avoiding Shouyou’s gaze the whole drive back to Kenma’s place. 

It’s a quiet drive. The kind of quiet that Atsumu’s gotten used to over the years. The kind of quiet that he appreciates. 

Shouyou looks more tired out than he’d let on from all those boxes but he doesn’t complain, just stifles a yawn behind his hand. 

Atsumu tries not to glance too much at him but he can’t help it if his gaze slides from the road to Shouyou, head against the window and eyes drooping shut.

How easy it would be to just reach his hand out to brush his fingers through Shouyou’s hair, or his cheek. How easy, given the space between them. 

But it is difficult. Impossible. Because there is a space between them now that hadn’t been there before. A space between them that Atsumu doesn’t know how to cross. So he tries to take his mind off the thought of reaching out to Shouyou in all the ways that he could, in all the ways that he used to and instead just drives through the hell that is the downtown Tokyo traffic at six in the evening. 

It’s awful but Shouyou sleeps right through it, only waking up when Atsumu shakes his shoulder gently. 

“We’re here,” Atsumu says, letting his hand linger longer than it needs to on Shouyou’s shoulder.

Shouyou blinks sleepily up at him. It takes him a few moments before it registers that they’re outside Kenma’s building. 

“I’m here,” Shouyou repeats, still a bit dazed. 

Atsumu realizes that he’s still got his hand on Shouyou’s shoulder and he pulls away too quickly, an apology already tripping out of his lips. 

But Shouyou catches his hand before he can drop it, fingers squeezing down on Atsumu’s. The look on his face is one of surprise and Atsumu would find it comical if it didn’t hurt so fucking much but then Shouyou ducks his head and laughs, a little bit too breathlessly, and Atsumu realizes that there’s really no way he’s remotely over him. 

“Better days, okay?” Shouyou holds onto his hand much tighter this time and Atsumu can’t do anything but nod. 

“If you say so,” Atsumu finally says, allowing himself a smile that can’t match Shouyou’s because no smile will ever match Shouyou’s but it is a smile and it has to count for something. 

(Actually.  _ Actually _ , it counts for a whole lot.)

△

It’s already raining when Atsumu makes his way into his brother’s store. He tracks mud into the clean floors and Osamu glares at him from the counter, lips twitching dangerously close to cursing his brother out but he’s got his employees around him and a fairly long line of customers waiting so he stops himself.

Atsumu just waves at him and slips into a seat directly opposite one Suna Rintarou, who looks at him with pure disdain in his eyes.

“There are other seats available,” Suna points out the other empty tables around them. “Please, be my guest,”

“No, thank you,” Atsumu says with a smile he hopes is nasty enough to get under Suna’s skin.

“You’re awful,” Suna mutters, rolling his eyes at him.

“Who’s awful?” Osamu takes that moment to cut through their conversation, directing an easy smile at Suna before frowning at his brother. “Oh, yeah. You’re pretty awful,”

“Everybody is out to get me,” Atsumu wants to yell but instead he just buries his face in his hands, far too dramatic for four in the afternoon. “A guy can’t catch a break,”

“He’s having a good day,” Suna whispers conspirationaly to Osamu, who’s taken the seat next to him. 

“A delightful one,” Osamu whispers back and Atsumu kind of hates the two of them more than anyone else in the world right now. He really does. 

He can’t believe he’s here on purpose. That he’s watching these two make fucking heart eyes at each other while Atsumu is sat miserable across from them. 

“No, really, don’t mind him,” Osamu says, turning to look at Suna, who smiles at him, just a small little smile that he saves for Osamu only. Sickening. “He’s just miserable because his ex is back in town,” 

“Looks like that’s not the only problem,” Suna murmurs, leaning against Osamu. “It kinda looks like he’s got a big fat crush on him, too,”

Osamu has that funny little smile on his face that tells Atsumu he knows exactly what’s going on and that they can definitely have a longer conversation now but he’ll spare him the public embarrassment (to which Atsumu is grateful for, and this whole conversation doesn’t exactly happen but it’s  _ the  _ look and not just  _ a _ look, and they understand everything that doesn’t need to be said. Twin telepathy and all that.). 

So instead of telling Atsumu that he’s being absolutely stupid, Osamu just sighs rather dreamily and says, “Ah, kids and love.”

Atsumu buries his face in his hands and wishes that he’d gone somewhere else for the afternoon but it’s raining and now he’s stuck here with his brother and his brother’s irritating boyfriend. 

“Ah, shut the fuck up,” Atsumu finally says, sounding more defeated than anything.

△

It’s odd how there was once a time when Atsumu had preferred the cover of nightfall, how evening had meant he was safe from everything that happened that day. How being bundled up in bed, under the weight of one too many blankets, was nothing but comforting. 

Things are a bit different this time around. 

Now, Atsumu thinks he might actually be afraid of the darkness. He spends a lot of his evenings just trying to sleep, tossing and turning, kicking off blankets and pacing around his room. He stares out the window, too, if only to watch cars zip by down below the streets. Tokyo is a city that hardly sleeps and that offers a bit of comfort for Atsumu, but not nearly enough to get him back into bed.

He makes himself a cup of tea, cradles the mug in his hands for a few minutes before he starts to take very small sips, the tea still hot and scalding on his tongue. 

Tea is good in the way that it helps relax his taut shoulders and clears his head. The day had been long but the evening seems to drag on forever. It’s always that case when he can’t sleep. When he refuses to. 

It’s almost two in the morning and he knows he’s going to regret this so much tomorrow when he actually has to start getting ready for work when his phone pings with a text notification.

A single text from Shouyou that shows him the view from his apartment. Or, Kenma’s. How long Shouyou plans to stay there, Atsumu doesn’t want to know. Doesn’t even want to ask (and is he allowed to ask that now without being suspicious? No. He shouldn’t. He won’t.). 

Instead of asking the one question that’s been bothering him (and what good would asking him that bring? It’s not as if Shouyou can just move right back in with Atsumu. It’s not--that’s not how things work. Not anymore, at least.), Atsumu snaps a quick photo of his nearly empty cup of tea and sends it to Shouyou with no caption. 

Shouyou’s reply is instant, just a declarative,  _ “Ahah! Go to sleep!” _ that Atsumu rolls his eyes at because of course Shouyou is the type to pester other people about sleeping early and doing everything but that for himself. 

_ Shut up _ , is all Atsumu texts him, a smile playing on the edges of his lips. 

There’s silence on his end for a few minutes and he almost kinda regrets telling Shouyou to shut up. If he’d known he would take it literally then perhaps he would’ve sent a better text. 

The could haves, would haves, and should haves always haunting Atsumu. 

He shakes his head in an effort to clear his thoughts when his phone buzzes in his hand. Shouyou’s face lights up the screen and Atsumu is taken back to when he’d called him that first time, a few weeks ago. 

He wades through the painful squeezing in his heart and picks it up, voice quiet because it’s two in the morning and people aren’t supposed to be chatting each other up at this hour.

“Hello?” Atsumu says after a few rings.

Some shuffling on the other end, the sound of blankets being kicked off before Shouyou’s voice rings clearly in his ear, “Hey, you’re still up. Is this a bad time?”

Atsumu cradles the phone against his ear, smiles into the call and says, “No, no. I’ve just been having problems sleeping, s’all,”

“Me, too,” Shouyou admits. “You think it’s the new place?”

“What, Kenma’s place too fancy for you?” Atsumu really isn’t one to tease anyone about the countryside but it’s still fun to get a rile out of Shouyou. Still fun to hear Shouyou bark out a surprised laugh. 

“Nah, it’s just too cold sometimes,” Atsumu can agree with that, even if he’s unsure of whether Shouyou is talking about the winter or just something else entirely.“Why are you awake?”

Atsumu plops himself down on the couch, careful not to spill his tea. He takes a few seconds to reply to Shouyou, wants to really think about it before finally answering, “Like I said, sleeping problems,”

It’s the easier way out. He doesn’t tell Shouyou that he hasn’t really gotten a full night in a long, long time. Doesn’t tell him that he spends evenings on end just pacing around his empty apartment. Too big for one person. Too cold even for winter. Too cold for any season, really. Atsumu is always so, so cold. Perhaps he understands perfectly what Shouyou meant when he said Kenma’s apartment was too cold. Atsumu knows all too well just what the cold can do to a person. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” there’s a hint of worry coloring Shouyou’s tone. 

Atsumu shakes his head before remembering that Shouyou can’t see and laughs a short little laugh that makes him feel good. Shoulders relaxing, and eyes feeling heavier. It’s good to laugh. Good to talk to Shouyou like this. 

It’s easier talking to Shouyou over the phone, Atsumu realizes. He doesn’t have to be careful about his expression, doesn’t have to try so hard not to look like he’s always on edge and he can finally, finally stop trying to read every little thing on Shouyou’s face, like the knitting of his eyebrows or the slight curve of his lips. Atsumu doesn’t need to know any of that when they’re just talking through the phone.

“Not really,” Atsumu stretches out on the couch. “Do you wanna talk about why you’re still up?” 

It’s Shouyou’s turn to laugh, a short laugh that rings clearly in Atsumu’s ear. “Not really,” 

And then there’s that familiar quiet that settles between them again, the only thing Atsumu hears on the other end of the call is Shouyou’s even breathing. 

Right, this is much easier compared to talking to Shouyou face to face. Compared to sitting in a car with him and pulling his hand back every time he wanted to reach out and touch him. This is much better because Shouyou can’t see just how fucking stupidly fond Atsumu is of him.

This is safe and safe is always good. 

“Hey, tell me something,” Shouyou’s voice drifts back into his ear and Atsumu startles. He’d almost drifted off to sleep. “What are you thinking about?”

So many things. 

Atsumu is always thinking about so many things.

About their last phone call. About the last time he’d seen Shouyou before he’d left for his travels. About how his twin brother can always break into his apartment, like, that’s alarming, it really is. Atsumu also thinks about tomorrow, and the day after that, and all the days that follow. He thinks too much all the time and it keeps him up. Doesn’t give him too much time or space to breathe. 

But Atsumu breathes in, now. Lets it out slowly and says, “Thinking about you, Shouyou,” 

“Yeah?” Shouyou says, voice sounding a bit too far away, now. “Is it anything good?” 

“Nope,” Atsumu laughs, but he sounds tired, sleep slowly rounding the edges of his words. “It’s the worst,” 

“That’s not fair,” Shouyou huffs. “I’m always thinking of you fondly,” 

Atsumu’s hold around the phone slackens. He catches his breath. 

“Okay, I’ll try to think of good things, then,” Atsumu barely manages to get out. His eyes are so heavy and he feels like he might just start sinking into the cushions. 

Shouyou’s voice is soft and quiet in his ear. Too far away that Atsumu starts to yearn for him. Wants him to be close, wants him to be right next to him. Wants him to be where Atsumu needs him to be. And it’s selfish, god Atsumu feels so fucking selfish but it’s okay because this is something that he’ll keep to himself, clutched tight in a fist and tucked in the deepest, darkest corner of his heart. It’s okay because nobody else needs to know. 

“Good,” Atsumu thinks he can hear a smile in Shouyou’s voice. That’s nice. Really, really nice. “Good night,”

There’s that twinge in his heart again, like a string that pulls at him whenever he can hear Shouyou’s smile, whenever he sees it. Feels it. 

Atsumu tries not to think about all the ugly that comes with being selfish. He tries not to think about Shouyou, staring up at the ceiling, a sleepy smile on his face. Atsumu tries to push it all away and instead just closes his eyes. 

He falls asleep before he can even say  _ good night _ . 

△

As much as he tries, Atsumu really, really can’t wrap his head around the current situation. Because as it stands.  _ As it stands _ , he’s faced with a wall he can’t even begin to think about scaling. Because there are easy things--like pouring himself a cup of tea at one in the morning. Like talking to Shouyou in the middle of the night and falling asleep before Shouyou even has time to say goodbye. Like kicking his brother out of his apartment at six in the morning because he’s sick of him. Like calling Bokuto up whenever he just wants to stop thinking and start  _ doing _ . These are some of the easier things in his life. These are some of the things that Atsumu holds on to, because they’re easy. Because they make him happy. 

His current situation, though, is much harder.

Because somehow, someway, some bastard had managed to rope every single person Atsumu’s ever thought of calling a friend and dragged them all to dinner. And for some reason unknown to anyone but the gods who must be laughing at him, all of them had agreed. 

Atsumu kind of wants to hit his head on the table but he doesn’t because Shouyou is right next to him, tucking into his noodles, head bobbing into a nod here and there whenever someone points something out to him, his smile cheery despite the freezing winter. Shouyou looks more happy than anything to be the center of attention for tonight’s dinner which isn’t all that bad except for the fact that Atsumu is right next to him and his friends keep throwing him pitiful little glances here and there because they know. Of course they fucking know. 

“How was Brazil?” Akaashi finally asks something that isn’t a jab at Atsumu and Atsumu sends a prayer to the gods his way. 

Shouyou launches into an elaborate story about a fishing trip and a beach volleyball match that has everyone in stitches by the end. There’s something about listening to the way Shouyou tells his stories--hands in the air, eyes bright, and face so, so animated it almost makes you feel like you were there.

And for a second, Atsumu finds himself on a beach in Brazil, bare feet in the sand and the sun in his face. Shouyou is right next to him, staring at the ocean, orange hair blowing in the wind. Atsumu closes his eyes for a second and the vision is gone. 

“Akaashi,  _ I _ want to go to Brazil,” Bokuto cuts through the story, eyes looking pleadingly at Akaashi. “Why can’t we go?”

Akaashi just shakes his head, a fond smile on his face when he says, “Maybe one day,”

And as if Osamu and Suna weren’t bad enough, really. 

Osamu glares at him from the opposite side of the table and Atsumu glares right back. Twin telepathy and all that. 

The drinks come easily after that. They overflow, practically tipping the table over with just how much they’re ordering. Drinks and food and easy conversation among friends who haven’t caught up in so long. 

Atsumu thinks that they should do this more often. He sweeps a glance down the table, a small smile playing across his lips at the sight of everyone together. And for now, for this one moment, he will allow himself to admit that he’s missed his friends. That they aren’t so bad afterall. 

It doesn’t happen the way it did the first time around. Hell, Atsumu doesn’t even notice anything’s changed until he feels Shouyou’s laugh right in his ear, his hair brushing against Atsumu’s cheek. He doesn’t notice just how close they are all of a sudden because this was never something that was out of the ordinary for them. They just drifted towards each other, spinning in the same orbit. 

Shouyou is practically leaning on him, head on Atsumu’s shoulder and Atsumu tries so, so hard to let the beer wash all his inhibitions away because how easy would it be to throw an arm around him and drag him even closer, until they’re two pieces of the same jigsaw puzzle, finally slotting in place. 

But Atsumu was never one to get carried away when drinking so instead he laughs good naturedly at all the jokes that Shouyou tells, lets his eyes linger for a few moments too long whenever Shouyou tilts his head up and looks at him, a cheery, easy smile on his face that makes Atsumu’s heart do several somersaults, over and over again. 

This is the exact moment that it happens, when Atsumu realizes that he never truly stood a chance. That there’s no taking anything back anymore. Here is when it happens, with Shouyou laughing at something Sakusa had said to Bokuto, effectively shutting what brilliant idea he might have had. 

Atsumu looks at Shouyou the whole time, a smile tugging on the corners of his lips. He looks at Shouyou and he thinks that he knows again, for certain. 

It doesn’t happen like the first time around. That had been a tidal wave against him, knocking him right off his feet with the intention to drown him.

This time around, it is gentler. Quieter. It comes in the quiet of the night, with Shouyou’s laughter wrapping around him. In the middle of dinner and drinks with their friends who’ve seen the best of him but who’ve also seen Atsumu at his worst. 

It comes like a gentle spring breeze against his cheek. A single cherry blossom petal fluttering in the wind before it falls on Atsumu’s open palm.

It is not a dawning realization, nothing of the dramatic kind. It is just a gentle acceptance that he is in love with Hinata Shouyou even after they’ve been broken up for a year. That perhaps he’s never really stopped loving him, only found different ways to love him this time around. 

Putting a name on it is easier this time around because Shouyou is laughing easily next to him, the drinks loosening whatever nerves that had wound him too tight to sleep the previous night. Shouyou is flushed and warm and Atsumu has his arm wound loosely around his waist. 

The night settles around them until there’s barely any food left on the tables. Until the drinks eventually stop flowing and everyone is left trying to outbid each other when it comes to paying. Everything is quieter but only for a split second of time until Shouyou pulls away from Atsumu to head for the bathroom.

To say that all hell breaks loose at that exact moment is an understatement because Atsumu feels like the whole earth beneath his feet is suddenly trembling with a force that’s between life and death. 

“Please,” Atsumu starts, one hand raised. Bracing for impact. “Stop looking at me like you’re at my funeral,” 

“It does kind of have that vibe,” Akaashi murmurs, sounding a bit too sleepy himself. 

The first blow is the softest one because whoever follows after Akaashi is out to kill Atsumu, he just knows. 

“That was just really, really painful to watch,” Osamu tells him, kicking at his foot from under the table. Atsumu kicks him right back. “Like, by the time they started serving drinks I already had eight very good excuses to leave,”

That gets a loud laugh from Bokuto, at least. 

“That was like watching a kicked puppy just crying on the street,” this time it’s Yaku who interjects, leaning to get a better view of Atsumu. 

“I mean,” Osamu trails off, a smile on his face that speaks volumes about how entertained he must be at the sudden turn of events. 

Bokuto nods. “I see it,” 

Atsumu lowers his head. 

“Omi, you can’t let them treat me this way,” he turns to Sakusa next to him who only gives him a withering stare. “Omi, please,” 

Sakusa just grimaces at him. 

“I need new friends,” Atsumu finally gives up. “Like, I need all of you gone,” 

It’s Bokuto who chimes in, as loud as someone who’s had one too many drinks, and declares, “Why would you need new friends when we’re right here?”

“That’s exactly the problem,” Atsumu murmurs the exact same time that Shouyou returns, slipping back to his seat beside him.

“What’s the problem?” Shouyou asks, turning around to look at Atsumu.

Atsumu fixes a smile that he thinks might look too forced but it is a smile that works, for now, and says, “Nothing. No problem at all,” 

Shouyou hums. 

“This is getting ridiculous,” Sakusa says, more to himself than anything, but his voice carries across to everyone all the same. 

Shouyou perks up, “What’s that?” 

Sakusa levels a stare at Shouyou first before turning very pointedly to look at Atsumu. 

“This.” is all Sakusa says in explanation. 

△

The morning after, Atsumu wakes up to a phone call from Shouyou. 

“Good morning,” Shouyou greets him, far too happy for someone who’d spent a good portion of the evening just teetering between sober and tipsy. 

There’s a smile in the way that he speaks. He can hear it when he says  _ good morning _ , when he asks Shouyou if his head hurts. If he needs him to get him any hangover pills.

Shouyou just laughs a birdsong laugh into the phone and Atsumu sinks back into his pillows, letting it wash over him like the slow pulling and pushing of the tides against the shore. 

“Why’re you calling so early in the morning?” Atsumu asks, barely managing to stifle a yawn behind his hand.

The answer comes short and simple enough. 

“I wanted to talk to you,” is all that Shouyou says. 

Atsumu closes his eyes.

He knows. He definitely knows. 

And that’s okay because Atsumu knows, too.

Shouyou takes a breath.

Atsumu exhales. 

The chilly morning air slips through the small opening in his windows. Atsumu stands up to push them open, letting the sunshine spill right into his room. 

It is a good morning if you just let the sun in. 

△

It comes as a surprise to him one Saturday evening when his phone flashes with an unknown number. He picks it up anyway because there’s really nothing better to do on a Friday evening (Osamu would have looked at him pityingly for that) and is greeted by a familiar voice on the other end of the line.

“Hey, Miya,” comes the voice, cheerful and refreshing, and, if Atsumu were to be very blunt, also kinda drunk. “We need you to come pick Hinata up,” 

Atsumu is off his feet in an instant, mind already reeling at the thought of Shouyou in trouble. But this person wouldn’t be sounding this nonchalant if something had happened, right? Right.  _ Right. _

“Okay,” Atsumu says slowly, still a little bit unsure--and also just the tiniest bit terrified--of the whole situation. “Who is this?”

There’s a startled laugh on the other end of the call. 

“It’s Sugawara,” he says, and this time he definitely sounds more drunk than he’d let on. “Hinata’s upperclassman. Anyway, I’ll drop a pin for you. See you soon,” 

Sugawara sends him a pin of their location. It’s not too far from where Atsumu’s place is. Just a few blocks down. He figures it’s not too late for him to take the train instead of driving. It’s a Friday and traffic is going to be hell. The only thought running across his mind is a constant chant of  _ whatever gets me there faster _ . 

He spots a few of the upperclassmen Shouyou had introduced to him a few years back. Familiar voices whose faces he can finally pull from his memory. 

He jogs up to Sugawara who’s slightly swaying on his spot. He looks alarmingly to everyone else around him, gesturing helplessly. 

“He’s fine, don’t mind him,” Azumane says with a short laugh. “We’re really sorry to bother you like this, but Hinata wouldn’t stop looking for you,” 

Sugawara elbows him for that comment alone before turning around to smile at Atsumu. A smile that throws him completely off guard because if this man tells him  _ anything _ then Atsumu is pretty sure he’ll believe it. 

But instead of convincing Atsumu that he hadn’t heard anything, Sugawara just calls him back into the izakaya, explaining along the way. 

“Hinata drank too much,” Sugawara tells him, a sheepish smile on his face. “Everybody drank too much, I think. But he’s fine. We would’ve sent him home but he kept asking for you. I’m sorry if this is uncomfortable,”

Atsumu shakes his head, offers his own placating smile back.

“No, not at all. I can take him home,” that gets him a raised eyebrow from Sugawara but otherwise nothing else. Atsumu feels his cheeks heat up at the implication of what he’d just said but--but it’s not like that. It’s not going to be like that. 

He finds Hinata with his head on the table, looking like he’s ready to pass out in the middle of this izakaya. Beside him, another one of his seniors sits next to him, a wry smile on his face that turns into one of surprise when he sees Atsumu. 

“He’s here to take Hinata home,” Sugawara says cheekily. 

Atsumu ducks his head, cheeks burning, “No, not like that,” 

“Oh? I didn’t say anything,” Sugawara is probably more trouble than Atsumu had expected but he pushes on, slipping quietly into the seat next to Shouyou and trying really, really hard not to be too self conscious around his seniors. 

They must’ve gotten the hint (Or Daichi must have kicked Sugawara out to the curb) because they both disappear, leaving only Atsumu and a sleepy Shouyou. 

Atsumu folds his fingers over Shouyou’s shoulder and gives it a squeeze, leaning in close to whisper into his ear, “Shouyou,” 

Shouyou stirs, eyes blinking. Unfocused. 

The izakaya smells like cigarettes and beer and too much food at once. It’s loud and bustling with the energy only a Friday night can bring out amongst the people. Atsumu feels his veins buzzing underneath his skin, heart doing a quick flip when Shouyou’s eyes finally focus on him. 

“Hey,” Shouyou sounds a bit tipsy. “Why are you here?”

Atsumu allows himself this, just for tonight. He leans in close to Shouyou and knocks their foreheads together, nose brushing briefly against his.

He feels Shouyou smile halfway through it, fingers curling over Atsumu’s knee. 

“You were looking for me,” Atsumu tells him, simple as that. “So I’m here to take you home,” 

“Hm, that sounds suspicious,” Shouyou’s face is flushed from the alcohol, eyes bright and alive again now that he’s woken up. 

“No, it doesn’t,” Atsumu pulls away from him then, but only so he can wind an arm around Shouyou’s shoulder. He helps him up, makes sure he’s steady on his feet before they start their way out of the pub. “Trust me for once, will you?”

“Don’t be stupid,” Shouyou leans his head on his shoulder, laugh bubbling out of his chest when he says, “I already trust you plenty.”

△

  
  


The thing with Atsumu and Shouyou is that they’re okay. They’ll always be okay.

Walking through the quiet streets of Tokyo at nearly one in the morning together, with Shouyou already starting to sober up, their fingers barely brushing when they start to drift too close to each other. A few smiles that Shouyou throws his way, smiles that Atsumu rolls into a glass bottle, labeling it  _ for rainy days _ . Something that he tucks in his pocket for when the storms eventually.

They’re okay. 

“Come on, you can say it,” Shouyou says when they make a quick vending machine stop. 

Atsumu rolls his eyes, “Okay. You shouldn’t have drank too much,” 

Shouyou takes the cold bottle of water Atsumu passes him and starts to chug it. 

“I didn’t,” that definitely doesn’t sound like anything close to the truth. Atsumu doesn’t even bother with pointing that out because Shouyou takes it back as quickly as he’d said it. “Okay, maybe I did. It was fun, though,” 

“I thought you’d passed out,” Atsumu doesn’t tell him that he’d been worried when he’d gotten the phone call, had thought of the worst that could have happened. “I was--”

“Worried, I know,” Shouyou beats him to it, his smile a little bit too smug. “Sorry. You know you didn’t have to come,”

“You know I would,” one in the morning is always a strange time. It makes people feel braver, somehow, but also all the more vulnerable. 

Shouyou does that thing again where he grazes his fingers over the back of Atsumu’s hand for a brief second before pulling away. It’s about to drive him mad, it really will. 

“I know,” they stop just a block away from Kenma’s building. The whole walk had felt so short. His time with Shouyou always feels so short, and Atsumu is trying his best not to feel this way, not to monopolize him because being jealous of other people getting to spend time with Shouyou is ugly and selfish and he has no right to think that, shouldn’t be entertaining thoughts of it at all. 

“Is that going to be a problem?” Atsumu finally asks, because they’re running out of time. Morning has a weird way of making everything so difficult. It’s easier to talk to Shouyou at night, when the rest of the world is asleep and quiet. 

Instead of answering him, Shouyou asks a question of his own, “Do you regret it?” 

Atsumu knows without having to clarify what he means. 

_ Do you regret breaking up with me? _

It’s a question that’s plagued him ever since. Answers barely rising above the surface, sitting on the tip of his tongue. Atsumu isn’t so much as unsure of what he feels, what he knows, than he is afraid of saying it out loud because that means it’s final. An absolute. 

So he deflects the question with another one because Shouyou’s always so good at it and asks, “Do you?” 

Shouyou is contemplative, doesn’t answer for a few moments before he asks, “Do you want the honest answer to that?”

An endless volley of deflecting, of passing the same question back and forth. 

Atsumu runs his hand through his hair, if only to distract from how much it’s suddenly started to tremble. 

“Yes,” he finally says, looking at Shouyou. 

Shouyou reaches out for him then, fingers closing around Atsumu’s shaking hand. He squeezes on it, doesn’t let go until Atsumu’s breathed out a sigh of relief, hand finally steadying. 

“Then no,” Shouyou tells him, fingers twining with Atsumu’s. Their palms pressing together in a holy palmers’ kiss. “I don’t think I do,” 

It doesn’t actually hurt like a meteorite to his head, as Atsumu had expected. Instead, it feels almost like relief because this is what’s been bubbling beneath the surface. This is what he’s been so afraid to say out loud. 

“I don’t, either,” Atsumu finally admits, and he feels his chest expand, the weight on his shoulders finally lifted. Shouyou’s hand is warm in his and looking into his eyes, all Atsumu can see is a thousand sunrises for a thousand different days that have yet to come. “I think we needed that at the time,” 

“You always did like to talk about the perfect timing,” and perhaps they’re the only two people who can talk about their breakup and laugh at it like this. 

The moon wanes overhead and the stars sing a song Atsumu’s never heard before. It’s beautiful. 

“I really am glad to be back home,” Shouyou tugs on their joined hands, pulling Atsumu closer to him, leaving barely any distance between them, and it’s so easy to just lean down and kiss him underneath the streetlamp like this. So, so easy. 

But Atsumu doesn’t, instead, he just loops his free arm around Shouyou’s waist and draws him to his chest. Doesn’t care that Shouyou can hear the thrum, thrum, thrumming of his heart. It marches to a steady drum beat that sounds a lot like the staccato of Shouyou’s laughter. 

“Yeah, me too.” Atsumu admits, a smile pressed into Shouyou’s hair. 

The moment doesn’t last forever. It’s fleeting, but it is enough. 

Shouyou brushes his thumb over the back of Atsumu’s hand and he knows that this is more than enough. That they are more than okay. 

△

Things are different this time around but different doesn’t always mean wrong, because there’s nothing wrong with spending his evenings after work with Shouyou, the both of them just chatting idly over the phone until one of them has to hang up for some reason or other. 

Atsumu doesn’t crave too much of his time anymore, barely feels a sting when Shouyou tells him he’s going out with Kenma and Kuroo for the evening. Doesn’t even comment at all when Bokuto mentions they’d had Shouyou over for dinner the other night, and okay, alright, that one he actually whines at, pouting the whole time because  _ why didn’t you invite me, man? You know I’m never doing anything fun.  _

“Gross. Please shut up,” is all Sakusa contributes to the conversation.

Bokuto absolutely laughs at that, loud and barking and filling up the whole room and Atsumu groans.

From the corner of his eye, he thinks he sees Sakusa’s lips twitch in an almost smile. 

So the days aren’t so bad. 

Atsumu spends his days bothering his friends (because he hasn’t had time to recruit new ones) and his evenings talking to Shouyou. It’s all too easy to fall into a pattern with Shouyou because Atsumu isn’t afraid of talking to him now, because Atsumu knows. And Shouyou knows. They both just know and they’re okay. 

The evenings can still get pretty rough, though, and halfway through the spring Atsumu finds himself having trouble sleeping again. It’s the stress from work, he knows, but it could very well be a myriad of other reasons. 

Things always happen too much and all at once that Atsumu sometimes feels like he’s speeding down the highway, hair whipping in the wind and voice lost, his heart left behind in the curb a thousand miles behind him. 

It’s a particularly bad night when he finds himself awake at three in the morning, eyes stinging from all the endless days of poor sleep. His hands twitch for coffee but he pours himself a glass of water instead. 

His phone rings from his night stand and he knows before he even hears the voice on the other end that it’s Shouyou, because nobody ever calls him this late into the night and lives to do it again another day. 

“You’re still up,” an observation, not a question. They don’t ask these kinds of questions anymore. They both know better. 

“I am,” Atsumu says, setting his cup down. “Is there something on your mind?”

“Nothing,” Shouyou whispers into the call. “Absolutely nothing. It’s terrifying,”

That gets a smile out of Atsumu. It’s a rough one, barely reaching his eyes, but it is a smile. 

“Kenma’s not pestering you about sleeping early?” Atsumu walks back into his room, sitting on the edge of his bed to stare out the large windows. The night sky is empty tonight, the lights blinking from below too far away. Like stars from a thousand years ago. 

“I think Kenma’s still up, actually,” Atsumu closes his eyes and traces the smile that Shouyou is talking through. It’s a pretty little smile that does nothing to hide how tired he is. 

“Is it too quiet, Shouyou?” Atsumu asks, fingers tight around his phone. 

Shouyou breathes in sharply. 

“Yes,” he finally admits. 

“I know how it feels,” Atsumu climbs back into his bed, makes himself cozy before turning back to the phone, “Y’know, times like these I really start to miss you a lot,” and because it’s three in the morning and Atsumu is fearless in the dark, he continues, “Like, a whole fucking lot,” 

Shouyou is so quiet on the other end that Atsumu starts to wonder if he’s still there or if he’d drifted off to sleep, but then--

_ But then _ Shouyou says, “Me, too,” and there’s a trembling in his voice that makes Atsumu’s heart ache, fingers twitching to reach out to him and pull him in close. Keep him safe. “I missed you so much,” 

“I didn’t go anywhere,” a lie. A big fat lie. The breakup had been friendly, to say the least, but it was also rough. 

“You did,” is all Shouyou tells him, sniffling. “I know it probably sounds selfish, we’d broken up already but I still missed you the whole time,” 

“You know I felt the same,” words are different when they leave you. Words unfurl past your lips and trip into becoming their own person. Words live within them, between them. Words are real and alive if you finally say them. “But I feel like maybe it’s time we stopped missing each other all the time,”

Words can take you as high as you need to go. 

“Okay,” Shouyou says, a finality in his voice that makes Atsumu smile. “Wait for me.” 

Atsumu isn’t even aware who’d dropped the call first but he doesn’t have to wonder for too long, not when there’s a series of knocks on his door half an hour later. 

Shouyou is out of breath when Atsumu opens it, hands on his knees and breathing heavy. 

“Wait,” Shouyou says, raising a hand up. “Let me catch my breath. Maybe I shouldn’t have ran here. Should’ve taken a cab--”

And there they are again, the could haves, would haves, and should haves. 

Atsumu is tired of them.

He wraps his fingers around Shouyou’s wrist and pulls him into the apartment, Shouyou stumbling over his shoes but allowing himself to be swept away by Atsumu anyway, falling to his side and then into his arms when Atsumu wraps them around him. 

“Always,” Atsumu says, face pressed into Shouyou’s shoulder, because he doesn’t think he can look at his face without being overcome with the need to cry. But he feels his eyes sting with tears anyway despite his best efforts.

Shouyou pulls him up until he’s looking at Atsumu’s face and cups his palm over Atsumu’s cheek, letting his thumb brush the tears away. 

“Always what?” Shouyou asks, a laugh already tripping past his lips and falling straight into Atsumu’s open palms. 

“I’ll wait for you,” a promise. Another absolute in Atsumu’s life. 

Shouyou had laughed his way straight into Atsumu’s heart all those years ago and he’s never left, since.

He laughs again this time, at a little past four in the morning. It’s a different kind of laugh, a quieter kind of laugh, but it is a beautiful laugh all the same. It sounds a lot like a song only the stars can sing. 

“Why would you do that when I’m already right here?” Shouyou kisses his forehead, thumb still tracing small circles over Atsumu’s cheeks before they slip into his hair, Shouyou’s fingers gently combing through it. 

They stay like that for the rest of the evening, Shouyou brushing his fingers through Atsumu’s hair and Atsumu with an arm around Shouyou’s middle, holding him close. 

And it’s late, or it’s early depending on how you see it but they fall asleep just as the sun starts to rise, the sky the kind of orange that Atsumu sees whenever he closes his eyes. 

△

The afternoon comes in a hushed whisper, almost too subtle in the way it’d changed from the quiet of the night to the gentle glow of the spring sun against Atsumu’s sheer curtains. 

The smell of coffee wafts through the open door and he stirs awake, feeling more rested than he’s ever felt in a long, long while. 

Shouyou is no longer by his side but Atsumu isn’t overcome by panic that he’d disappeared, that he’s gone again because he knows that beyond this bedroom door he’ll find Shouyou in the kitchen, already pouring himself a cup of warm coffee. 

“Good morning,” Shouyou says, smiling behind the kitchen counter. He passes a warm cup to Atsumu and Atsumu takes it, fingers wrapping around it in an effort to keep his hands warm. “Did you have anything planned today?”

“Nothing at all,” Atsumu watches as Shouyou picks up the framed photo of the both of them. Sees the way it makes him smile, starting from the corners of his lips and then flitting up to his eyes. 

“Good,” Shouyou says, setting it back down gently. He pulls Atsumu to the couch with him, their cups of coffee forgotten for this--

Legs tangled together underneath a quilted blanket, Shouyou’s head on Atsumu’s chest, ear pressed right to where his heart should be.

Atsumu runs his fingers through Shouyou’s hair, basks in the warm glow the day has to offer, and laughs. He actually laughs. 

“What’s that for?” Shouyou asks, lifting his head up to look at him.

Atsumu catches the ring that dangles around Shoyou’s neck.

“No reason,” Atsumu tucks the ring back under Shouyou’s shirt, heart absolutely alive and every vein inside of him singing. “It’s just a really good morning.” 

△

“So, when were you going to tell me you’d gotten back together with your ex?” Osamu asks him one morning after he’d barged right into Atsumu’s door--another painful reminder to get his locks changed. 

Atsumu shrugs. “I don’t think we’re actually back together,”

Osamu blanches.

Atsumu continues eating. 

“What do you mean, you don’t think you’re back together?” Osamu rounds on him then, eyes wide. “Like, do you hate yourself? Are you out of your mind?” 

“Nah, I don’t think so,” Atsumu is pretty sure they’re not back together, not exactly. He’s also pretty sure that they’re together, him and Shouyou. It’s just--two different things. 

Atsumu and Shouyou back together doesn’t sound right, but Atsumu and Shouyou are  _ together _ , well, that one sounds absolutely perfect. 

“Make me understand here before I start calling for reinforcements,” his brother is awfully concerned for once and it’s almost unsettling.

Atsumu pushes his bowl of half-eaten cereal away and just yawns. 

“I mean, we’re not back together,” he says this really slowly because Osamu is an idiot. “But we’re together, I guess,” 

Osamu gives him a withering stare. 

“I hate you two, I really do,” he grumbles. “You deserve each other.” 

Atsumu doesn’t really know about deserve because no two people really deserve each other but he does think that they’re good together. That having Shouyou in his life has always meant more sunny days. How even if it rained for days, and days on end, it was still worth it if only for the double rainbows that followed. 

So maybe he doesn’t think they deserve each other because that’s a completely different notion, but Atsumu is sure that they’re  _ good _ , and that’s really more than he can ever ask for. 

△

Shouyou’s living situation is definitely not an issue. At least, it isn’t until Atsumu drops him off in the morning only to run into Kozume Kenma, plastic bag in one hand and eyes narrowed at the sight of Atsumu. 

“Kenma, hey, good morning,” Shouyou bounces up to Kenma and Atsumu has no choice but to follow.

Kenma gives him a once over before turning around to ignore Atsumu completely. 

“Where have you been, Shouyou?” Kenma asks, voice deliberately low so Atsumu can barely overhear them. He can make out something about staying out late, looking for him, blah blah blah, something about Kuroo, and then, “Got us breakfast,” 

Shouyou turns quickly to Atsumu, his smile a little sheepish. 

“Do you wanna join us for breakfast?” 

Kenma looks at him this time, too, face incredibly unimpressed. 

Atsumu shakes his head.

“No, actually, I need to meet Bokuto this morning,” Atsumu lies through his teeth but all for good reason. Kozume Kenma terrifies him. 

“I thought you said Bokuto and Akaashi were--” but Shouyou is cut off with an arm around his shoulder as Kenma draws him closer to his side.

“You heard him, he doesn’t want to come,” Kenma’s voice is dry and flat and Atsumu hopes so hard for a black hole to swallow him up. “Come on, Shouyou. Food’s gonna get cold,” 

Shouyou allows himself to be dragged away by Kenma but stops just before they step into the elevator to look over his shoulder and wave at Atsumu.

Atsumu waves back, weak in the knees for all the wrong reasons.

He’s known about Kozume Kenma for years, has met him a few times and yet Kenma is still capable of striking fear in his heart. 

Well, at least he takes good care of Shouyou. Atsumu can’t ever fault him for that. 

△

(Later, when Atsumu calls Sakusa of all people to tell him about what happened, Sakusa just lets out a very deep, very long sigh before telling him that he deserves it.

And that’s that for the rest of Atsumu’s day.)

△

Alright, so Shouyou’s living situation. It’s been a few months and he still hasn’t moved out from Kenma’s apartment. Hasn’t made a mention of looking for a new place. 

Atsumu hasn’t mentioned his apartment, either, but he was pretty sure it was an open invitation and pretty obvious until Osamu told him that Hinata Shouyou is most likely just as dense as he is and would need it spelled out. 

Which is why Atsumu finds himself outside Kozume Kenma’s apartment, a bag of fruit ready for an offering that he doesn’t even need to make because Kenma is out and about and thank god for small mercies, right. 

Shouyou guides him into the large apartment, smile on his face and his hand holding onto Atsumu’s, fingers squeezing. 

Atsumu is still not used to holding Shouyou’s hand. Not used to the feeling of waking up in the morning with Shouyou in his arms, hair tickling at Atsumu’s chin. Atsumu has gone so, so long without it that every morning is still a surprise.

But surprises in the form of Shouyou’s sunrise laugh and bright, bright eyes are never bad. They’re the best kind, actually. 

“What brings you here?” Shouyou asks, setting the fruit aside (and the fruit had been ridiculous, Atsumu doesn’t know why he’d let Osamu of all people convince him to give Kenma fruits.  _ What the hell _ .) 

“Missed you,” Atsumu admits easily enough. He reaches across the space between them to grab Shouyou’s hand again, turning it over so he can run his thumb over his palm. 

Shouyou tugs Atsumu closer to him until there’s barely any space between them. 

They’ve gotten so, so close again. A kind of closeness that’s different to how they’d been before--before everything. This is the kind of close that’s intimate and solemn, almost. Atsumu likes it. 

Prefers this a lot by a mile. 

“Also, I wanted to ask you something,” Atsumu doesn’t know why he’s so nervous. He’s lived practically half his adolescent years with Shouyou. They’d moved in together even before they started dating. This is--this isn’t a big deal, except that it is because second chances are always hard to come by and Shouyou might be kind and wonderful but there’s also a line, somewhere. Atsumu just hasn’t found it yet. 

“Okay, but can I ask you a question first?” The look on Shouyou’s face tells Atsumu that this question isn’t going to be as simple as  _ Do you want to order in for dinner?  _ Because now that he’s under the weight of Shouyou’s gaze, Atsumu suddenly feels small. 

Shouyou is looking down at their locked hands when he finally asks, “Why didn’t you tell me to come home back then?” 

Shouyou and his weighted questions. Shouyou, who sings with the stars and who smiles right alongside the sun. Shouyou, in front of him now, hand holding Atsumu’s tightly. So tight, Atsumu wonders if Shouyou thinks he’s going anywhere. 

Atsumu swipes his thumb over the back of Shouyou’s hand, “I don’t think I’d ever come between you and the world,” 

The way Shouyou is looking at him makes Atsumu feel warm. Every part of him that Shouyou has touched burns golden and bright, like signal flares in the dark, guiding Atsumu back where he needs to go. Where he needs to be.

“Yeah, I thought so,” Shouyou’s voice is wet, eyes blinking back tears. “I just--I wanted to hear that,” 

Atsumu draws their foreheads together and closes his eyes. 

“Besides, I don’t think you’d have come back if I asked you, anyway,” Atsumu can smile at that now because he’d entertained the thought, once. Had wondered what Shouyou would say if Atsumu just asked. But that’s not how things had gone and Atsumu would never put himself before Shouyou. 

This time, Shouyou laughs, tears streaming down his face. 

Atsumu frames both hands on either side of Shouyou’s face and pulls him in for a kiss, lips brushing softly, lashes fluttering, and thumb swiping at the tears. 

“Yeah, I would’ve probably hung up on you,” Shouyou laughs a little weakly and Atsumu feels his heart grow fonder, if it was even possible. Tripling in size just to find ways to fit Shouyou inside, keep him safe and warm. Save him from all the rain. “But y’know, you can say it now,” 

It takes a second for Atsumu to realize what he means, but when it does, he can’t help but shake his head.

“You’re already home, though,” Atsumu teases, pressing a kiss to Shouyou’s cheek. 

“Don’t be difficult,” Shouyou sounds amused, though. Eyes glistening. “Say it,” 

This time, it’s Shouyou who bridges the gap between them, kissing Atsumu slow and sweet, bruising him from the inside out with how achingly tender he is. 

Atsumu curls his fingers into Shouyou’s hair, kissing him back like he can’t just quite get enough of him, and god, god, Atsumu thinks he can do this for an entire lifetime. He knows he can. 

There comes that feeling again, a hushed whisper that Atsumu hears clearly. It comes gently to him this time around. It doesn’t tip him over or threaten to consume him. It just comes, settling into his open palms and trusting him to hold it kindly. 

Atsumu looks at Shouyou, sees all the ways that the world has touched him, and smiles. 

“Why don’t you come home with me, Shouyou?” 

Shouyou twines their fingers together. 

“Okay.”

△

There are piles of unpacked boxes all over the floor of Atsumu’s apartment. His closet is practically overflowing and the kitchen is a bit messier than usual but that’s fine because Atsumu’s apartment feels more lived in, now. 

Shouyou kicks his shoes off by the door and nearly stumbles right into Atsumu’s arms. 

Atsumu steadies him, plucking the small box of picture books and memorabilia out of his hands to set it down on the counter behind him. 

Shouyou moves closer to him, arms wrapped around Atsumu’s waist. “I’m home,” 

Words can live inside people but they’re stronger once they’re free. 

Atsumu turns around in the circle of Shouyou’s arms and smiles, nose pressing into Shouyou’s hair, breathing him in. He can’t bring himself to let go, not now, so he holds on to him and hopes that his voice doesn’t shake too much when he finally says, “Welcome home, Shouyou.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> anyway. ANYWAY . that's it then. 
> 
> u can find me on [twt](https://twitter.com/HOSHIUMIKOURAl)!


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